


A Study in Pink

by Elefwin



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Humor, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7565551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elefwin/pseuds/Elefwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Hux. Kylo Ren. Pink ice cream. Whatever in the world could go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Pink

**Author's Note:**

> * HBO Girls season 1 episode 8, yes  
> * Adam Driver loves running, Kylo Ren might as well  
> * no, not sorry

One day General Hux had lost Kylo Ren, and not in a good “accidentally stepped out of an airlock” way. Not that the general needed Ren for anything in particular or cared – beyond the safety of the  _ Finalizer _ and their duty to the Order, – he just preferred, with Ren, to know. Thus the tracking beacon. Ren had not fried the new one yet, and it was diligently transmitting from a section in the remote upper service area of the ship. Without change. For the past couple of hours. This meant that Kylo Ren had most likely removed his belt in that very section and could be in fact anywhere. Doing anything. Not that Hux worried, it just… didn’t sit well with him.

 

The head of the maintenance crew squirmed under the general’s calm inquiring gaze.

“Off limits.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hux glanced at the monitor: still no traceable movement on Ren’s side.

“An entire section of my ship, off limits to everyone, on Kylo Ren’s orders. Is that correct?”

The technician, torn between a “yes” and a “no”, was turning a perfect shade of military grey.

“Sir! Lord Ren did not specify, sir, b-but I’m sure he did not mean you, sir!”

How generous of  _ Lord Ren _ . Apparently, he had been using the area, for a few hours every other day or so, ever since his arrival to the  _ Finalizer. _ And no one, no one had thought to inform their senior commanding officer of this little arrangement. There would be reviews – once he found out what exactly he would be reviewing.

“So, Mal?.. Mal, what  _ is _ up there?”

“Nothing, sir,” said Mal the techie, both perplexed and relieved. “Nothing but the usual.”

 

Hux had brought an ice cream cone, because he damn well could. He liked ice cream, while Kylo Ren most emphatically did not – it was a win-win situation. Hux was happily licking away when the elevator stopped one level short from his destination. There was no emergency. Hux was certain a tech check would show the elevator was perfectly functional. It just would not go further up. Well, Hux would!

The climb was… unpleasant, as though something – someone – up there discouraged any visitors. A subtle sensation that, combined with technical difficulties and promise of Kylo Ren’s wrath, must’ve worked wonders on the more succeptible people. Not on Hux, of course. Maybe he  _ was _ exempt from the rule. Or maybe Ren just did not care. Be that as it may, when Hux had finally arrived, he was not worried nor afraid, but very much annoyed. He was still licking the ice cream, if only to prevent it from dripping pink all around, but he was doing it with a somber, grim face.

 

There was nothing up there.

Massive structures housing the  _ Finalizer _ ’s more tender innards rose from below and went on far above. A sturdy service walkway ran around them with smaller bridges branching off here and there. Everything looked shipshape, clean, empty... and boring.

As far as Hux could see – as far as a quick scan was showing – there was nothing out of the ordinary for miles around. Nothing and no one. Yet Ren kept coming here – Ren, who had too free a run of the ship as it were. Not that Hux begrudged him the space, but it had never been a matter of mere physical space, had it…

Something rushed past him.

Hux swayed in its wake, swore under his breath, grabbed for the datapad. Now there was… something, no more than a flicker on the screen, possibly a glitch but for its swift purposeful progress along the walkway. Not far ahead the walkway curved gently at the end of the deck… Hux made a quick calculation, pulled his blaster, and sprinted across the bridges to catch whatever it was on the other side.

 

...It was Kylo Ren. Of course it was Kylo bloody Ren, but… weird. Weird _er_.

Hux stared.

As usual, Ren was clad in black. Black headband holding back his unruly hair. Black running shoes. Black pair of flimsy shorts with – Hux bit into his ice cream – the First Order insignia printed on a side. The rest was, well, Ren. Altogether too much of Ren. His skin seemed to  _ glow _ . His chest and abdomen moved in a calm, slow rhythm that induced a kind of pleasant motion sickness in the observer – but of course Hux was immune to such folly… He tore his eyes off the vast expanse of skin and looked Ren in the face. It, too, was weird: open, relaxed, almost radiant. The lips were moving, Ren was speaking...

“...General? ”

Hux swallowed a mouthful of thick, fruity-sweet saliva. That carefree look was getting on his nerves.

“Yes?”

“Are we under attack? Or have you finally decided to do away with me?” Ren actually grinned. The bastard.

“What?!”

“You came in armed, what was I to think?”

Damn. Hux holstered the blaster.

“And since when do you indulge in thinking?”

“I do indulge,” Ren’s grin showed a hint of teeth. “Why are you here, General?”

He was standing a bit too close for Hux’s comfort and not quite still, his large body ceaselessly moving in small subtle ways. This disregard of personal space had been easier to ignore with less body on display, Hux was finding out. Ridiculous.

“What’s this?” he waved a languid hand. A pink drop, unnoticed, fell into the dimly lit abyss. “This… cutting off parts of the ship for yourself? Unacceptable. I won’t stand – I will have none of that.”

Ren shrugged. It was really… odd, how the hard and the soft in his physique ought to clash but somehow did not. The overall effect was extremely distracting.

“I enjoy running,” he explained amiably, “and do not care for company. Is it really that much to ask?”

“As if you’d ever asked. We have gyms, you know...”

But the gyms would not do, would they? They did not have miles and miles of track, and Ren’s presence was disturbing enough as it were. Ren in his running gear, now… No. Just no.

“Thanks for coming by, though. Looks like I got carried away.”

 

Gross, thought Hux some time later. Gross understatement.

His hand must’ve had slipped. It was Ren getting his way again, Ren about as subtle as a club to the head, but oddly mellow, Ren and his runner’s high. He just stood there, grinning loopily, one ear sticking out, shorts riding low on his hips, like it was all perfectly right, like they were over and done, and Hux had half a mind to smear his half-melted ice cream all over that stupid face. Then Ren’s left pectoral twitched just so. And Hux’s hand slipped.

The just dessert hit Ren above a collarbone and slid slowly almost all the way down to the waistband of his shorts before flopping onto the floor.

 

Hux did expect him to lash out. The whole mishap was worth a good tantrum, and a tantrum would put things in perspective. Put Hux back in control. Ren blinked, looking confused and incredibly young. Any moment now…

When he looked back at Hux he still looked way too young… and dangerous. The loopy grin was gone. There suddenly was not quite murder in the air, but probably something worse.

Hux had never feared Kylo Ren, and he was not about to start now. However…

“I would rather you licked it off,” said Ren conversationally.

Hux said nothing, because his brain refused to believe what his ears have just heard, only his eyes flickered up and down along the bright pink stripe spreading on Ren’s skin. And he wasn’t, he definitely was not even thinking about the revolting mix of ice cream and light sweat flavor…

“I would not even have to push hard,” Ren went on, fascinated.

 

“You would not  _ dare _ ,” hissed Hux. His hands have clenched into tight fists, and were he not too disgusted to even lay hands on Ren, he would have punched the brat into tomorrow.

The brat moved in, closer. Hux stepped back – and hit the safety railing, outmanoeuvered somehow. Now there was heat rolling off Ren in almost visible waves, and the smell – strong, heady, not entirely unpleasant, thick in Hux’s throat.

“Not today, then,” said Ren… and rubbed bodily against Hux’s front, ice cream and all.

“You filth!”

Hux did push then, with both hands, and Ren moved away, but just far enough to admire his ruined uniform.

“You insufferable, uncouth, infantile...”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Ren, unbuckling Hux’s belt and opening Hux’s coat despite Hux’s aggressive and vocal protests. “General, do you teach your troops proper army swearing as well?”

“Shut up and unhand me this instant!”

Ren did. And then Hux, disoriented and knocked off balance, had to grab for support. He scrabbled at Ren’s slick shoulders, Ren’s hair, anything. Because he had been somehow lifted up onto the railing with nothing much but the sucking deep empty space around.

“Let. Me. Down.”

“No.”

Alas, Hux’s current position did not allow for kicking. He struggled to unlock his legs, wrapped around Ren’s torso, but safety took precedence over dignity.

“I’m not kneeling on that,” Ren nodded at the floor at his feet, which was a mess of ice cream and gridiron.

 

A rush of blood to the head was making Hux dizzy. The abyss breathed at his back, and at his front Kylo bloody Ren was, for once, looking  _ up _ at him with dark hungry eyes. That was bad. That was Ren dead set on something, and it usually took a great deal to dissuade him. Certainly not, mused Hux, with a hard-on practically pressed against his bare chest.

Amazing, how his own body persisted despite all his doubts and fears.

Ren worried at his bottom lip, licked it. His gaze did not waver. His face was now tinted pale pink, a faint reflection of Hux’s own, which, Hux felt, was aflame. A slow burn, nigh unbearable if one was honest with himself.

“What do you want, an invitation?”

Ren smiled slowly, wickedly, reaching up and finally, finally unсlasping Hux’s tunic to let him breathe.

“I want you, General… to indulge.”

 

Hux tried. When Ren made a soft content little sigh before taking Hux’s dick into his mouth, he had honestly tried. He had also tried his damnedest not to come right then and there from the sheer simple absurd pleasure of it. He wasn’t an indulgent kind of person. He didn’t seek it out. He specifically did not seek it out from Ren of all people, and to have it almost forced – thrust – at him was…

...A bad choice of words.

Hux had no leverage. He was being torn between indulgence and awareness – of his immediate precarious position, of implications and reasons, – unable to stop ruining it for himself, and oh, was Ren like that  _ all the time _ , no wonder he was such a mess, Ren who didn’t suck at sucking…

But he did. He stopped.

Hux glared at him, because he did not trust his own voice at the moment.

“If you but let go,” said Ren, “you could fuck my face.”

And that did it, so unthinkable that Hux had finally stopped thinking, sank both hands into Ren’s thick hair and yes, pulled that mouth all the way back onto his dick lest Ren kept talking shit.

There must’ve been something, a fraction of what Ren did to immobilize his targets, subtle and live along Hux’s spine, holding him safely on the edge. He tried. He had still tried to think  _ unstable _ and  _ unacceptable _ and  _ utterly unnecessary _ , but then felt too alive to bother, and Kylo Ren was alive, strong and sloppy and too good between his legs, and it didn’t bear thinking too much about.

 

It was a brutal job. It left him strung out, aching from parched mouth to thighs thrumming with a futile effort to move – to thrust deeper into Ren’s tender throat, to get more of the sweet choking constriction, of tongue and teeth. He squirmed helplessly, followed the vector of pleasure-pain right down to Ren’s shoulders and powerful back, and surely Ren’s neck must’ve been killing him – and one great arm wrapped around his leg, perhaps because Ren’s concentration was slipping or because he, too, needed to be closer. Brutal, efficient, relentless. Maddening.

And then Ren looked up at him – artless and devious – with blissed out eyes eerily luminous on a flushed face streaked with drool and sweat.

 

Hux came with a harsh half-sob and a back-snapping twist, body sliding limply down into Ren’s arms, head light and ringing hollow. Angry tears stood in his eyes, but even through the blur he could see Ren – too large and still too naked, pink almost down to his navel – smile and swallow. It wasn’t fair. Hux blinked hard. No, it was not fair, making him crave too many things at once and then ripping it all from him with but a glance. Yes, he would’ve rather licked it off – came all over that endless chest and licked it clean, – but now he couldn’t. So he flung an arm across Ren’s stubborn neck, brought him just that bit down, and licked into his mouth. And licked, and licked until he was  _ done _ .

It was immensely satisfying to see Ren, with hair wild and lips obscenely swollen, sway slightly and gulp for air. Hux had readjusted his clothes and hair the best he could, and was again, save for the pink stained coat he left off, looking presentable – and Ren was still a mess leaning against the railing, working the strain out of his neck. Things were looking up. Back to normal. The roll of those shoulders was no longer making Hux’s head spin, and the amazing shoulders-to-waist ratio failed to overexcite him.

All good.

All good.

 

On his long way down General Hux mused on loss. He had… lost something up there. Time, of course, and while he distinctly remembered bringing an ice cream cone with him, he did not remember spilling it all over his coat. It was untoward and unlike him. Must be Ren’s fault. Ren was…

Ren was not there when he turned to leave. But there’s been a kind of whole body memory of swiftness, and languid strength, and dangerous exhilarating things. All good as long as Ren did them in a safe secluded place, alone. For some reason Hux now liked the idea that no one, no one else was going up there.

Ren was coming down, though. Ren, who had said things to him… There was a rasp in his voice, not the distortion of the helmet’s vocoder, no, something else, disturbing yet pleasant. Strange. They were going to sort it out – whatever it was – on Hux’s terms and on Hux’s ground. He absentmindedly licked his lips – there, too, lingered a memory of a taste oddly reminiscent of ice cream, though definitely not it.

Kylo Ren so owed him one.


End file.
